Fowl Play?

When we last mentioned chickens, we had just bought the five hens ("hins" as they say round here) and they were settling in. We've had a bit of fun since then. The first run was built in a bit of a hurry and didn't allow the birds access to the out building which we'd designated as chicken house (formerly milking shed). We were therefore carrying them to/from morning and evening in a cardboard box.

On the Tuesday we were able to buy chicken wire and Dad constructed a bigger, more permanent run for the girls which let onto the back door of the milking shed. He then constructed a pop-hole in the door so that the chooks could get to and from under their own steam. The chooks, meanwhile had got used to roosting in the calf house manger which was actually at the 'wrong end' of the outbuilding, not in the bit we wanted them to have.

 Next job, then, was to build the chicken 'cage' within the outbuilding, restricting them to the correct end, where they were given perfectly good perches to replace the manger bar they'd adopted. 7 feet high should be good enough a barrier, considered Dad, so he built the mesh barrier up to wall height, leaving the apex up into the rafters open. However we did not have any decent wood to build a doorway out of so the 'wall' of chicken wire was left with a door-way opening into which Mum wedged the frame of the futon bed; it wasn't the full 7 feet tall but we figured it would keep the birds contained

Not a bit of it. The morning saw them all lined up on the former perch in the manger. No problem. Mum and Dad were amused by the girls' persistence and determination, to have hopped over the futon frame, but thought that with a proper 7-foot tall door would put a stop to their gallop. Amusingly, too we seemed to have the laziest chooks in Roscommon. Even though the pop-hole was open nobody went free ranging, it being cold and wet out. They remained indoors, preferring to be 'barn-reared' rather than free range, if that's alright with you, Mr Farmer!

The 7 foot tall door? Effective? Not a bit of it. When Dad went out to check on the gang last thing at night, not only were 2 chooks on the manger bar perch again, but the remaining 3 were sitting roosting on top of the 7 foot mesh barrier, obviously quite capable of getting up that high, probably in stages via the intended perches up the 'new end'. Nothing for it but to chicken wire all the way to the rafters and apex, which Dad did next day. The day was finally won, and the girls, vocal and annoyed that evening, are now contained in the right end. They'll get used to it.

Mum and Dad decided that as there were no neighbours to annoy, they would add a cockerel to the mix. The cock bird could marshall and help protect his ladies as well as sometimes getting them to go purposefully broody so that we might have replacement stock of young birds and some cockerel-pullets for the pot. They contacted Tom again from FreeRangePoultry.ie who told us he had cock birds for sale at 17 weeks old (a bit younger than our girls, who are now 23 weeks old and should be LAYING EGGS (Hint hint!) by now. On Friday 18th May, Mum and Dad drove down through Ballyhaunis and County Mayo to Athenry to collect their boy, who they decided should be called William the Conqueror to cement the Sussex connection and maybe inspire him to heroics and good protecting and marshalling. He looked rather fine, upright and proud all be it a bit stumpy where his tail feathers were mainly gone, presumably pulled out by the dozens and dozens of females in his rather crowded home-pen in Mayo.

Here again, the girls decided that all was not going to go according to plan. They did not love him and they did not want him in their run so they roughed him up a bit. The poor lamb did nothing to fight back and over the Friday and Saturday just seemed to get more and more bullied and more and more miserable. Nobody was actually hurting him or trying to peck him hard and injure him, but the 'Lovely Girls' (as they have now been named) would ignore him, have a quick peck as he went by, not roost with him and leave him behind when they went out to scratch in the sun (which they all now do happily after the first 3 lazy days). By this morning he was sitting hunched up in the hen house looking a picture of abject misery and we know from experience that chooks left like this will just go downhill, off their food and then fall off their perches, dead for no apparent reason.

Something had to be done. Mum and Dad were off shopping in Castlebar and decided that if William was still being pathetic by the time they got back, they'd force him out into the sunshine and make him see the grass and scenery. Bring him out of himself. This they did and it seems to have been the making of him. He seemed to come to in the sunshine and started striding about, scratching and pecking, eating grass and feed pellets, preening and doing a bit of sun bathing in the heat of today (it was very warm in the sunshine). We were a bit worried, even so, that the girls would take themselves off to bed last thing, leaving him out doors where Dad would have to round him up but, no, the last-thing checks revealed him indoors and roosting cuddled up to one of the girls. He must have taken himself off indoors with them. We hope this is a turning point, and tomorrow he'll be accepted into the gang properly.

Watch this space
Deefs

Back in the Chicken Game!

We'd been nosing around on the internet trying to find a source of Light Sussex chickens preferably at about 22 weeks age (known as "point of lay" or POL; your girls are just about to start their egg laying careers and the boys, who breeders do not really want too many of, have become obviously male and can be weeded out). But the discussion forums were very quiet and no-one was coming forward in reply to any of our entreaties. All the for sale birds seemed to be miles away, mainly in Northern Ireland. Thinking it might take a while to find birds, we'd not done anything about building housing or a chicken run. Then on Friday Dad chanced upon a clickable button saying "future sales" and four clicks in found a poultry sale in Roscommon on Sunday, 2 days away! Rosco is at the other end of the county but is still only half an hour away. Thinking this might be a professional sale where traders are auctioning off thousands of birds, Mum and Dad grabbed one of the big packing boxes and headed off on Sunday morning, not too full of hope. We found the sale in a rough old car park opposite the cattle market and we could tell immediately that this was not a professional event. It was more like a little car boot sale - the car park was full of very agricultural looking vans, cars and trailers and a crowd of rather disreputable looking lad and lasses hanging round each. Our hearts sank. The poultry was 'displayed' in a collection of badly soiled crates and boxes, many crammed with way too many ducks or chickens, some cockerels let loose to run around doing their own thing. The birds looked, for the most part, fairly grubby and were obviously not going to have any kind of quality or health guarantee or certification. Many were obviously of mixed lineage, so 'mongrel' chickens, generic "poultry". This was cash-only and you'd be lucky to even get a name of whom you were trading with. None the less Mum and Dad worked their way round counter-clockwise and at half way point came across a guy with a few Light Sussex (they thought, though there were no labels). Unfortunately there was also a bloke at the stall buying a couple of those, couple of them, one of them and.... Mum and Dad thought they'd be lucky to get 2 birds... they walked on. Then, amazing revelation, they came across a stand which had a neat row of clearly labelled crates with no more than 5 hens in each crate, a different breed in each crate, with back up stock in the clean van. Clear labels carried a photo of the variety and a laminated sign told that these were vaccinated against all manner of disease. The bloke, Tom, was bright and helpful, happy to furnish Mum with his business card and website address. He turned out to be a company called Rainbow Free Range Poultry from Athenry, Co. Galway, website FreeRangePoultry.ie; a nice website which carries a virtual tour of the place and an interview with one of the lady staff. His Sussex hens were labelled "Sussex Ponte" which we understand is a hybrid/utility version of the same thing (Crossed with a Rhode Island), they were €15 each, they were exactly the right age (22 weeks) and he was happy to sell us 5 plus give us a carrier bag of feed to see us through to Tuesday (Monday is a Bank Holiday). Dad went to bring the car and our box round and the chooks were loaded, Tom carrying four at once by the wings! Mum and Dad hurried home via a likely seller of chicken-wire, but they were closed. The chooks were left in the car while Dad quickly wrangled a run out of Sparks's old fence panels and a chunk of Thermal Panel, behind the caravan, on one end of the milking shed. The chickens were let out and allowed to settle down and explore. Being dogs, Coco and I are instinctively driven to try to get at them. Dad thinks he will eventually achieve peace like he did with Megan and Haggis and the last lot of chickens, back 10 years ago, but for now Mum and Dad have us excitedly charging round and round the run trying find, chew or dig a way in and we are subject to frequent shouts of "Deefer! Leave THEM ALONE!" Coco, amusingly, charges through a patch of stinging nettles in his excitement and stings his feet and under carriage. He is in for an uncomfortable night, rubbing himself on the bedding, trying to rub away the itches. The chooks are moved to the calf-shed for the night, being the most dog and fox proof building we had (there are discussions of whether they should live in the 2CV or the caravan, but sense prevails. The quickly clamber and scramble up to the timber which runs across the top of the feed manger - it would have been above the cow's necks as they fed - and use that as a perch. In the morning they stay put there as the rain comes down. They seem to be opting for a battery lifestyle rather than free-range, but Mum and Dad are happy to leave them be. it gives them a chance to go buy chicken wire and then to build a bigger, more serious run with a pop-hole through the door back into the manger-perch. The chooks are eventually encouraged out to come see this big new space in the sun shine of afternoon, and we dogs revert to our chasing about trying to find a way in. Not much chance there. This is chicken wire buried into the ground - no way under , over or through for a Westie and a Yorkie. As we go to press, evening is falling and Dad is patiently waiting for the girls to suss out what to do with the pop-hole. They are not very bright Deefs

Nobody here but us chickens

There is talk round her of "keeping chickens again". Mum and Dad used to keep chickens in the fenced off bit of the garden still called "The Chicken Run". I am told they were great to keep and used to yield a good supply of free range eggs but there were, then, 3 problems.

• Rats: - it's very difficult to completely avoid waste food because it's always tempting to put down too much and not clear it up again, and chooks are messy eaters, so spilt grain gets under the ark and in come the rats. Meggie, in fact got really good at ratting, and killed 30-40 in the time we had chickens, but realistically, she couldn't chase a rat in open pursuit, she got them when they cornered themselves in the greenhouse
• Mites and lice - once established in a wooden type ark these were a menace to control - we were sure they are there in our local wild bird population, so you could strip down the ark and coop as many times as you like - you never completely eradicated them, especially Norhthern Red Mite which are worse than fleas for making your skin crawl - they are slow moving and you only have to see one to start imagining itches all over
• Garden destruction - OK -we got, by mistake, some full sized chooks rather than bantams (more of that in a minute), but 4 of them seemed able to reduce the run to a brown, plantless waste ground, so we let them out into more and more bits of garden, till eventually they were wrecking the whole site. They could wipe out a seedling bed in seconds, seeming to clear acres with a few side swipes of their big feet during "dust-bathing" or scratching for grubs. The garden was looking like it might end up supporting only chicken-proof plants like daffs, alliums and rose of Sharon

Hmmm... the full sized chooks. Yes, "our" breeder was a bit vague re what made a bantam and what wasn't - and managed even to mix up some tiny chicks of bantam Rhode Island Reds with full-size Rhodies. We got one of each. We had (I'm told) a black and white Leghorn which was allegedly a bantie, but actually quite big. And we had a big ol' Marran too. Nice size eggs, but really these were full sized chooks and did full sized damage to the garden. Dad's favourite was actually a bantam - a Partridge Pekin with big feathery feet. Whenever she was thinking of going broody, she'd fly up to land on Dad's arm, like a falconry bird, and he could walk around with her. She was named "Madame Poule" as she was always busy - named after a waitress in a restaurant near the "Les Puces" flea market in Paris

Soooo... the talk of chooks centres around DEFINITELY having only bantams sized ones and confining them to the chicken run. Plus (we think) getting one of those new "Eggloo" plastic houses which might be a lot easier to keeop clean of mites and parasites.

Westies, Meg and the H tell me, are able to live perfectly happily alongside chooks, once the dogs are used to the birds and vice versa, and the humans have plenty of photo's of M+H mingling happily in the garden with the chooks, each wandering happily in and out of each others' territory. Haggis tells me he was once pecked summarily on the nose by the bantam Rhodie and it quite put him off chasing them. Just in case we got oo attached, Mum had them all named as chook recipes - "Maryland", "Korma", "Tikka Massala" etc

We'll see

Deefer